


Worth the Wrinkles

by DC_Derringer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic Wincestiel, Double Penetration, M/M, Multi, Threesome, old man sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 10:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DC_Derringer/pseuds/DC_Derringer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a hunt, Castiel is hit with a spell and loses his grace, leaving him human. 20 years later, he is enjoying domestic bliss and semi-retirement with Dean and Sam an hour outside of Columbus, Ohio. Everything is perfect, until Heaven decides to get in their business again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth the Wrinkles

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Wincestiel Big Bang running over at livejournal. Check out my journal and tumblr for links to artwork by the fabulous buttsexandwaffles. Also, small author note; I started writing this before season 8 ended, so it’s a bit “Tralalala, what season 8 finale?”
> 
> Also, huge thanks to my beta readers, fobsessed54 and lazarusstorm.

It was supposed to be an easy, standard case. Just a coven of witches. Nothing the Winchesters couldn’t handle, especially with Castiel’s help. Except it turned out that the warlock leading the coven was possessed by a very powerful demon, not just a man dabbling in the black arts. 

Power crackled off the demon’s skin, his eyes glowing blue with intense power, like Samhain all those years ago when the apocalypse was the worst of their worries. His coven of witches, whom Sam and Dean had already killed, rose from the ground, crackling with the same blue energy their leader held.

“Close your eyes!” Castiel shouted.

The Winchesters had learned to follow an order like that, and shut their eyes, readying for the blast of holy light that was sure to come. Castiel was not about to disappoint them, and the room filled with his purifying energy, ripping screams of agony from the demonized witches.

When the light faded, the entire coven lay on the ground, horribly burnt and disfigured. Sam and Dean slowly uncovered their faces, and looked up, pleased. Congratulations and pats on the back went around. 

No one noticed when the demon started to move.

The blast was quick and a wave of energy hit Castiel square in the chest, sending him flying across the room and into a wall. Sam’s reaction was immediate, and he was lucky that this one spell was all the warlock had left, a final death rattle, or else Ruby’s knife wouldn’t have finished him off so easily.

With the demon finally and truly dead, the Winchesters rushed over to Castiel, pulling him up from the rubble on the floor. His eyes were open, but dazed, staring unseeing at the ceiling, even as Sam and Dean shouted his name.

“Gone…” Castiel said shakily. Sam and Dean had to lean in close to hear what he was saying. 

“He’s gone Cas, don’t worry,” Dean said reassuringly.

“No…” Cas said, shaking his head a little bit to clear it. “My grace… he destroyed it…” Castiel went on, his voice lower as he finally looked each Winchester in the eye. “I’m human.”

Sam and Dean stared at Castiel, and then at each other, gaping, unsure what to say.

~

Lancaster, Ohio - 20 years later

Castiel was working the phones in the study off the kitchen. They often referred to it as Castiel’s study, because he did most of the work in there, fielding calls from hunters needing research, or mimicking the FBI, CIA, or whatever else government agency that wanted a check-in. Castiel was the best at it, so though they’d started with the intention of sharing the responsibility, Castiel put in the most hours.

“Hold on, lemme see what we have,” Castiel said. He was on the phone with a hunter in California who needed to know how to kill undines. Castiel put the phone against his chest and sauntered into the library, or Sam’s library as they called it.

“Books on undines?” Castiel asked.

“Third book shelf. On the bottom.” Sam barely looked up from his work. He’d spent the last 10 years or so collecting books of lore, and was in the process of scanning every last page so that they would have electronic copies that would be easier to share with the hunter community. He was currently working through the L’s.

Castiel let out a soft groan as he crouched down to the bottom shelf. He made more and more noise every day, whether it was bending over, or getting out of bed. He scanned the books quickly. There were modern, plastic books, old canvas volumes, and his personal favorites, leather bound journals, collected over the years from fallen hunters. With a small pang in his chest, he picked out the most familiar one, Bobby’s, and headed back to the study to tell the young hunter what to do. 

When Castiel was done, he promptly returned the book to its appropriate place on the shelf. Sam was very particular about the organization of the books. He didn’t want their house looking like Bobby’s had. Once the book was back, Castiel walked over to Sam’s desk and sat on the book Sam was currently looking through.

“What?” Sam asked, looking up over the rim of his reading glasses. Dean grumbled about his own glasses, and almost never wore them, but Sam wore his elegantly, and Castiel liked the look of them. He just couldn’t decide if he liked them better perched on the end of Sam’s nose, or pushed up over his head and into his long hair. By now, it was threaded with silver, and finally long enough to wear in a pony-tail.

“Lunch time,” Castiel said, ignoring Sam’s hands as he tried to save the book under Castiel’s butt. He settled himself a little more firmly on top of it.

“Can I finish this page?” Sam asked.

“No. Shut off the computer and go get your brother,” Castiel said. He continued sitting with his arms crossed until Sam shut down the computer and got up from his seat. 

“You get bossier every day,” Sam said, softening the words with a kiss on the corner of Castiel’s mouth. There were already soft wrinkles there, but they were smile lines, so Castiel didn’t mind them at all.

Sam headed out the back door to what they called Dean’s garage, because they each had their parts of the house. Once fully domesticated, Dean took up a hobby he’d never been able to fully appreciate without a home and a lot of land; collecting cars. Over the years, he’d gathered up a fine selection of vintage muscle cars. He’d buy them cheap, busted, rusted, hardly running, and then fix them up again until they were mint. Some he sold or traded, others he kept tinkering with. The Impala, naturally, held her queen’s position for daily use on errands and date night.

Once all three were in the kitchen, they moved around each other putting together sandwiches and heating up leftovers, and then perching themselves on stools around the wooden table that Castiel had made himself. He had a workshop in the basement, and found he was good with his hands and wood. No one commented about that other famous carpenter. He delighted in his ability to create, something he’d never been able to do as an angel, and helped fix up their home over the years. Currently, he was working on a sturdy work table for Dean’s garage.

They’d bought the house about ten years ago, giving up the Men of Letters bunker to younger, more able hunters as a sign of early retirement. They wanted their privacy from prying eyes, and they wanted a home to call their own. A little house like normal people had. They kept up the hunter ties, of course, but the jobs were for a younger generation, and they had so much more to try to live for. They had lives that needed living before they got too old.

“Have you thought about what you want to do for your birthday?” Dean asked once he’d gotten some food into his stomach.

“No,” Castiel said, rolling his eyes. Sam and Dean had both decided that Castiel’s birthday should be celebrated on September 18, the day he first inhabited his human vessel, and the day he raised Dean from Hell. Castiel resisted every year.

“C’mon man, you’re turning 59,” Dean said with a smirk. “Just one year away from the big six-oh. Gotta get your ya-ya’s out before you get too old.”

“Do we have to do this every year?” Castiel groaned.

“That’s how birthdays work,” Dean said. “What about we go into Columbus for the weekend? We could stay at a nice hotel and test the bed.”

“Fine,” Castiel said, giving in not because of the promise for sex, but to go into the city. They didn’t get in nearly as often as they wanted to. Some hunting thing always came up, or some chore needed doing around the house. “But no cake, and absolutely no singing. I cannot stand that awful birthday song.”

“What about gifts?” Sam asked.

“Just my two young men will do,” Castiel said with a smirk. 

“We’re older,” Sam said with a smirk. It was true though, at least as far as his body was concerned. They’d looked up Jimmy Novak’s medical history after he fell, and discovered that despite being married with a kid, Jimmy must have started early, because he was a year younger than Sam. The suit and perpetual scruff had just made him look older. But, despite his body being younger, Castiel still called Sam and Dean his young men, because he was billions of years older than them, and no arbitrary date on a calendar was going to convince him otherwise.

~

They left Friday afternoon. First, they dropped their bags at the Westin Columbus, freshened up, and then went out for dinner before a show. They picked a nice steak restaurant, for Dean’s sake, because Sam and Castiel both knew he didn’t want to see a play, but wasn’t complaining because it was Castiel’s birthday. Besides, getting a nice heavy meal would help Dean nod off while Sam and Castiel enjoyed the show. Castiel didn’t mind, and only had to jab him in the ribs twice when he snored. 

Sated from the meal, and minds buzzing from the play, the three sauntered back to the hotel suite. Castiel was ready to sink in to sleep, but unfortunately, Sam and Dean insisted on a small cake, and even sang the birthday song. Castiel covered his ears as they warbled away, deliberately off-key, glaring at them for good measure. When they were finished, he dutifully blew out his candles and wished out loud that they would never sing again.

Castiel only ate a few bites of the cake. Ever since he turned human, he’d disliked sweets. They were too cloying and sticky, and he’d never changed his mind about it. At least this cake was light on the icing. Dean couldn’t be trusted with the stuff for various reasons.

“And now presents,” Sam said, pulling a small box out from under the bed.

“I told you I didn’t want anything,” Castiel said, putting on a good grudging face, even as he started unwrapping the pretty paper. He slid off the top of the box and found a small, unremarkable brown bottle. It appeared to be empty, but on closer inspection it had been recently emptied and not washed. It smelled faintly of herbs and spices. “I don’t get it,” Castiel said, nonplussed and actually a little disappointed by the gift, despite his earlier protests.

“You said you just wanted us for your birthday, right?” Dean said, grinning mischievously.

“So we talked to an old friend down in Louisiana, voodoo priestess, asked her to whip us up a little something for pep,” Sam said.

“Pep?” Castiel raised his eyebrows with confusion, but then he got it and he mirrored Dean’s mischievous grin. “Oh… Are you sure it’s safe to take with your other medications?” Castiel sniffed the bottle some more, trying to discern some of the ingredients. 

“Yes, yes,” Sam said dismissively, taking the bottle away from Castiel. “She’s a pharmacist as well as a priestess. Now, do you want to enjoy your presents or not?”

“Hmmm,” Castiel said, musing to himself while he slowly undressed. Sam and Dean followed his example, stripping off their pressed shirts and slacks and dumping them on the floor to wrinkle. “I haven’t had a Winchester sandwich in a while,” Castiel finally said, letting his eyes rake over his two young men.

Even after all their years together, Castiel couldn’t help but admire them. The two bodies were older, more scarred, the muscles softer with age, but no less beautiful, Castiel thought. Dean and Sam teased and laughed about wrinkles and grey hair, but even after so many years of being human, Castiel had never picked up the stigma associated with old age. Sam and Dean were still Sam and Dean. He couldn’t see their souls anymore, but they were still beautiful.

Sam and Dean watched as Castiel climbed on top of Dean, sliding between his legs easily and comfortably from years of practice. Like he was following a script, Sam slid into place as well, covering Castiel’s back, crowding them all together in a hot pile of bodies. It started with languid kisses, slow, quiet, suckling touches of lip and skin, warming up for what they had in store. Quickly, Castiel noticed the ‘pep’ kicking in, feeling Dean’s cock jutting up against his belly, and Sam’s rubbing against the back of his thighs. Those over the counter drugs their doctor recommended a few years ago never worked quite so well. 

Sam was gone for a moment, then back again, and the quiet click from a bottle sent a shiver of anticipation down Castiel’s spine. Sam’s hand ghosted between his thighs, but then reached further, and Dean let out a hitched gasp as he was penetrated by Sam’s slick fingers. 

Dean made little breathy moans when he got fingered, and as much as Castiel liked to listen to them, he loved swallowing them up even more. He claimed Dean’s mouth, his kisses wet and sloppy as Dean came alive under him, panting and writhing while Sam got him ready. Their cocks bumped together, getting wet and sticky while Dean rubbed up against Castiel, and Castiel pressed down against Dean, eager to get inside him.

When Sam drew away, he gave Castiel a pat on the butt, a signal that Dean was ready. Castiel did not hesitate and kneed Dean’s legs further apart, pushing his legs up and out of the way until Dean hissed from the stretch; he wasn’t as flexible as he used to be. Castiel kissed away that small complaint, and dredged up a deeper moan from Dean as he pushed his cock inside slowly and carefully, making sure the stretch wasn’t too much. Castiel eased all the way in, until he was flush against Dean’s body. Dean gave a little squeeze to show his approval, grinning as Castiel gasped from the tight hold.

Castiel gasped again as he felt Sam’s fingers slipping inside of him. Sam’s fingers were thick, with broad knuckles, so even just one could be a tight fit sometimes. But Sam moved slowly and carefully, kissing and sucking Castiel’s neck as he stretched him. Dean took up the same routine, kissing Castiel’s chest as he arched back into Sam’s touch. It was so different from when they were younger, when their stamina, muscles, and adrenalin pumped them to their very limits. With such glee they had experimented and pushed the boundaries, often leaving themselves shaking and aching from their efforts. Castiel remembered Dean and Sam discovering how flexible he was and encouraging him with yoga classes so they could shape him into all sorts of knots for their mutual pleasure. But that had been ages and injuries ago. Before grey hairs, vitamins, and heart healthy diets. They had by no means stopped with their experimenting, but there were limitations now, and fears of dislocated hips. 

“You ready?” Sam asked. He always asked. Even after three fingers, after he spread them wide inside, after Dean or Castiel was whimpering and writhing with pleasure and on the verge of begging him for it. Sam still asked if they were ready. 

Castiel nodded and then groaned as he felt the flared head of Sam’s cock pushing up against him, spreading him wider with an ache and a stretch. Castiel bit his lip when Sam first breached him letting out a sharp gasp when he finally passed that first tight ring of muscle. It made his cock jump, swelling up harder, and making Dean moan as well. Like a circuit, they all fit together. 

Sam set the pace, rocking into Castiel, who then rocked into Dean. Slow and stable, testing their limits. Castiel was the first to break the rhythm, urging them for more as he snapped his hips suddenly. Another jab struck Dean’s prostate, making him shudder, and then a squeeze around Sam got him moving as well so that he mustered a faster, harder pace, showing off the medicine he had imbibed.

Castiel reveled in the sensation of penetration and penetrating. At once he was under control and in control of their love making, receiving pleasure and doling it out as well. Beneath him, he could watch Dean’s face, open and honest, straining to find release. He bent to kiss him, to soothe and swallow up the pressure. Behind him, he could feel Sam, hear him grunting, and the loud smack of flesh against flesh. He couldn’t see Sam’s face, but he knew well the screwed up, tender concentration he carried when on top. He was eager to please, and confident in his ability. It washed around Castiel, the feeling of both of them, enveloping him in the lust and love they had shared these long twenty years together. Time they wouldn’t have had if he were still an angel.

Long practice taught Castiel how to work his lovers over, and the same for them. They knew how to make it fast, or make it last. Castiel wanted it to last, he wanted to savor his birthday gift. So as Dean strived up against him, moving his hips against his impalement, Castiel reached down between them. He moved to stroke Dean’s cock for one blissful moment, but then gripped it tightly at the base, pinching it with a wicked smile.

“No! Cas,” Dean gasped pitifully, reaching down to pull Castiel’s hand away.

“My birthday,” Castiel growled, stilling Dean’s hands with just his voice and a stern look. “You’ll wait until I say so. Sam, hold his hands.”

Sam obeyed quickly, smirking from over Castiel’s shoulder as he reached forward for Dean’s hands to pin them over his hand, crowding Castiel even closer than before. Castiel watched with glee as Dean struggled, but then settled down with a pout. Castiel leaned in to nip at that petulant lip, reveling in the closeness of his two lovers. He started moving again, making Dean moan in overwrought misery, overloaded with sensation. Sam picked up his pace as well, pushing into Castiel, forcing him further forward, jamming them all together to feel every inch of his remaining strength, from years of healthy eating and exercise.

Castiel could feel it coming, the tightening of his muscles, that feeling of being just on the edge of the precipice, and inching closer and closer, every part of his body striving mindlessly, ever seeking that fine point. Falling over was like a tumble, falling down stairs, but softly. A trip, a weightlessness in his belly, and then getting hit in the gut and exploding all over the place. At the same moment that Castiel hit orgasm, he released Dean, pumping inside him, knowing he was also on that very fine edge. And then behind him, he could feel Sam, frantic and wild as he strived for his own release. He felt them both at once, Dean tightening around him, Sam filling him up. The entirety of it washed over him like a warm bath, cleansing and completing at the same time. 

With a final murmur, Castiel slumped forward, careful not to bang his head against Dean’s. Sam was hardly so graceful and fell heavily onto the both of them, breathless and boneless. A few moments of rearranging, and they were disentangled, each taking up a portion of the bed and casually overlapping as they struggled to catch their breaths.

“I think,” Sam said, but then his voice caught, still breathless. “I think we need some more exercise.”

“Walks after dinner?” Castiel asked. He rested his hand on Sam’s chest, over an old scar that pierced his lung, feeling it heave and throw until it gradually slowed and eased.

“Grrnn mmmrg,” Dean said. He was already sprawled out and half asleep, despite the nap in the theater.

“We’ll get a treadmill for the winter,” Castiel said soothingly, ruffling Dean’s hair. Dean murmured and then dutifully rolled onto his side so that he wouldn’t start snoring.

Sam and Castiel hardly lasted much longer and were soon fast asleep as well.

~

Castiel’s birthday was a nice bump in the usual routine, but things quickly went back to normal after their weekend away. Sam left for a few days to haggle over ancient texts with a hunter in Colorado. Dean tinkered with his cars. Castiel was on the phone for three days, backing up a hunter in New Hampshire with FBI cred and a litany of lore on kelpies. It was business as usual on the Winchester homestead.

Late on a Thursday night, Sam came back home with an armful of books and an extra box of manuscripts in the car which he told Dean to get. His back was killing him and all he wanted was his arm chair, hot tea, and something mindless on TV. 

“Any news?” Castiel asked, calling from their kitchen while he boiled water.

“Yeah, you remember Jim and Deb Granieri? Their two girls just did their first solo hunt. Good job, too.”

“What, Charity and Kayla?” Dean asked. “Those girls can’t be out of high school yet.”

“College graduates,” Sam said. “Pre-law and pre-med. They thought it’d give them an edge with hunting.”

“Huh, hunter kids getting college degrees. What will they think of next?” Dean murmured. “Hey Cas, make enough water for me too?” Dean called out.

“Already on it,” Castiel called back, setting down all three cups on a tray. He was heading over to the fridge to get the milk, when he suddenly felt his skin prickle and the air go tight all over the house. With panic rising in him, he heard a sound he never thought he would hear again, the loud flutter of wings.

“Castiel!” Inias said, for it was he who suddenly appeared in the kitchen and wrapped Castiel in a tight embrace. Moments later, Dean and Sam dashed into the room, their hands fumbling around guns they didn’t handle as often or as well as they used to. 

“Get away from him,” Dean growled, his gun locked tight on Inias, even though he knew it didn’t do any good against an angel. It just made him feel better. Oddly though, as the Winchesters entered the room, Inias squinted at them and then looked away, blinking rapidly and rubbing his eyes for a moment. 

“I shouldn’t be so surprised the Winchesters are under your protection,” Inias said, still not looking at them. “It is an extraordinary spell you have cast. The way you wrap your grace around them makes them hard to look at, even now.”

“Grace?” Sam said, his and Dean’s gaze shooting over to Castiel quickly, confusion overcoming them suddenly.

“Castiel lost his grace twenty years ago. He fell,” Dean said defensively.

“Fell?” Inias looked curiously at Castiel. “Brother, why would you tell them you have lost your grace? Hadn’t they noticed the blessings you have laid upon them?”

“Inias, perhaps we should talk elsewhere,” Castiel said clumsily as his lovers’ looks turned from confusion to suspicion.

“No, maybe you better talk here,” Dean said, his voice lowering into a deep, angry growl. “You fell Cas. You lost your grace, and you’ve been human all this time, haven’t you?” Dean said, but it wasn’t really a question, it was a demand, even when he was starting to suspect the truth, even when he knew he wasn’t going to like what Castiel said next. Castiel himself wasn’t sure what to say in the face of these two men he loved so much. There was only one word that came to mind that seemed well-suited to the situation.

“Crap,” Castiel said, and then he and Inias disappeared, leaving Sam and Dean in the kitchen gaping with surprise.

“Cas just flew-” Sam started.

“No, he didn’t,” Dean said resolutely, despite evidence to the contrary. “That stupid angel… he…” Dean cut himself off, too hurt and angry to continue, unable to be stubborn against something that was becoming so obvious. 

“We can know for sure when he comes back,” Sam said, drawing a knife from one of their drawers and cutting his hand open. Dean nodded and took the knife, making himself bleed so they could paint almost forgotten sigils on the doors. 

~

The night was long and crept into the early hours of the morning. Dean and Sam dumped the relaxing tea and changed it out for coffee to keep up their vigil. Minutes before dawn, there was a quiet knock on the door. Dean got up to answer it, unsurprised when he saw Castiel alone on the other side, looking haggard and worn.

“Let me in, please,” Castiel said. Dean stepped back, gesturing for Castiel to enter, but that made his haggard expression turn into a glare while he growled out, “You know I can’t.”

“And why not?” Dean growled back.

“Because I’m still an angel, damnit. Now let me into my house. I’m not having this discussion on the porch.”

Dean nodded to Sam and Sam went to the back of the house to scratch off the angel banishing sigils while Dean scraped away the one on the front door. With a sigh of relief, Castiel passed the threshold. Without even pausing, he fell into habit and went for his usual spot on the couch, slumping down casually and slipping off his shoes like he usually did after a long day. Sam and Dean stood over him, watching, and waiting.

“Well?” Dean asked when Castiel didn’t start speaking willingly. 

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” Castiel offered lamely.

“Oh, so you had a plan to tell us? Like when, our fiftieth anniversary?” Dean asked.

“After you died,” Castiel said, sheepishly. “I was going to greet you in Heaven.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Dean said, throwing his hands up in the air. It was probably better that Sam stepped in.

“Why did you lie to us at all?” Sam asked, a little more coolly. 

“If I hadn’t told you I was human, we never would have been lovers,” Castiel said sadly.

“Cas,” Sam said, pushing down his confusion. “I’m missing something here. Just start from the beginning. Tell us what happened when we thought you fell.”

“It started before then. On that night I kissed Dean,” Castiel started, getting comfortable so he could tell a long story, from long ago, that still controlled his every move and action.

~

Approximately 21 years ago

The first time I saw Sam and Dean together, sexually, I mean, I was a little surprised, but only because I knew it was not common among humans. I could feel the guilt coming through as they tangled on the bed, overcoming the taboos society had laid on them so that they could find some small comfort. But I was not so surprised otherwise. I already knew they were soul mates, knew they shared a heaven, and that they were irrevocably bonded together by fate. That they had given in to such pure, undeniable love was impressive.

The only problem was that I realized I wanted that love as well. For eons of time, I had been embraced in the purifying love of my angelic brothers and sisters. It filled every part of my being. But I dashed away all those connections, pulled away from heaven at every turn to aid the Winchesters and to bolster their cause. I craved for the intensity of love that they felt for each other and I wanted to give them the intensity of my love as well. 

I felt a stronger bond to Dean. After all we had been through over the years, I thought it was my best way in. I could sense his attraction, knew of his devotion to me, but also his reluctance, which I could not pinpoint the reason for. I thought I could overcome it. But perhaps a more subtle advance would have been better.

I kissed Dean in the car, stole the kiss really. I’d gone grocery shopping with him, fidgety and nervous the entire time, unable to screw up my courage until we were returned to the Men of Letters bunker and he was about to leave. I pulled him close to me and laid a wet kiss on his lips, even slipping my tongue in when his mouth gaped in surprise. I pulled back, thrilled by his lack of resistance, but then that faded when I saw the dumbfounded expression on his face.

“What was that?” 

“I love you,” I blurted out, unable to control it anymore in my eagerness and desire.

“Love?” Dean asked, his surprise and bewilderment growing. “That’s not-”

“I want to be with you,” I went on, to undercut his argument.

“No, you see-” Dean tried again, but I cut him off once more.

“I know about you and Sam. It’s OK. I love him, too.”

Dean gaped in surprise at that revelation, something he’d never even considered having to deny. I took advantage of his inability to speak and rushed on.

“I know you’ve had others in your bed, so jealously wouldn’t be a problem. Though I don’t want to be cast off after one night, I want-”

“Now hold on,” Dean said sternly. I’d already messed it up. Hadn’t said everything I needed to say before he got his bearings back. “Just… just hold those thoughts, OK? I need to talk to Sam.”

He got out of the car then, ending the conversation by walking away. I was tempted to follow, to insist and continue my argument in front of Sam, but decided to let him talk with privacy. I probably should have followed him in and made my case.

~

Sam prayed for me, and I returned to the bunker. Dean was absent from the room, and I knew that didn’t bode well. The expression on Sam’s face was another clear sign, it was that same expression he bore when he brought bad news to the families of victims he couldn’t save.

“It’s no then?” I asked, so Sam wouldn’t have to struggle to find the right words. He nodded slowly, not quite able to look me in the eye. “But, why? I love you. Both of you.”

“Cas,” he said, softly, and I loved the way my shortened name sounded on their lips. He was smiling, but sadly. “You don’t want to be with us. We’re all kinds of messed up.”

“Don’t say that,” I said, angry at his self-deprecation. “You’re brave, loving, determined-”

“Incestuous, alcoholic, sometimes a little bit crazy,” Sam said with a laugh, though I didn’t see the humor in his statement. “We’re human. Fragile, breakable, dirty. You’re not like us. You shouldn’t be with us like that.”

“I’ve broken so many times and you and Dean have always put me back together. I am like you.”

“You’re still an angel,” Sam said bluntly, and looked away, the fake smile and laugh gone. I could feel heat behind my eyes. The prickle of tears starting to form, but I shut it down and didn’t let the natural reaction come. 

“That doesn’t matter. I can still-”

“It does,” Sam said firmly. “You’re an angel. We’re human. We won’t fit.”

“But I love you,” I said, hoping those words which worked so well in the stories would break through this unfair barrier, that they would break Sam down and make him understand and convince Dean as well how much I needed them.

“I’m sorry,” was all Sam said in reply and he walked away as well, to join Dean in their room and leave me alone in the bunker. The tears prickled behind my eyes again, hotter than before, but I held them back again. 

~

You’d think I’d take a hint and give up after that. Leave the Winchesters behind and pursue my own path. But I had learned a lot from Sam and Dean, and one important lesson was to never give up. Perhaps subtlety would have been better, but I hadn’t learned that skill well enough just yet. 

They were surprised when I still insisted on hunting with them, aiding them in their work to protect the innocent. I did anything I could to get into their good graces – bringing food, finding tomes to swell their library, collecting rare ingredients for spells. But I was more annoying than endearing as I clung to every word of praise, basking like a puppy at any kind word or acknowledgement. As a result, they were cagey around me, careful not to initiate any kind of physical contact and never asking favors. As extra protection, they took advantage of my knowledge and acceptance of their relationship, and became more affectionate with each other while I was around. Their love was like a wall they built up to keep me out, but it only made me want to climb higher, until the very worst happened.

“Maybe you should go,” Dean said to me one day.

“Not forever,” Sam cut in. So I knew this was something they’d discussed before. A plan to get rid of me. “But maybe just for a little while. Getting out of here will help you clear your head.”

“I don’t need to clear my head,” I said. “I know what I want.”

“You’re hurting yourself here, Cas,” Dean said. “You gotta go before you drive yourself crazy.”

“But I-” I started to say, but I was saved from my pathetic argument as Sam’s phone rang, cutting sharply through the tension in the room. And then even more so when he announced it was Charlie. Immediately, their attention was off me and on Charlie as she hurriedly explained that she’d found a coven of witches that were way out of her league and that she desperately needed some help clearing them out.

Well, you know how the rest of that goes. The demon, the supposed curse he hit me with to knock out my grace, which was probably the biggest loophole in my lie. A warlock turning an angel human without any sort of preparation? No chanting? No blood sacrifice? For a lie off the cuff, I was lucky Sam and Dean didn’t look into it further. If they’d listened to the curse carefully enough and had the idea to look it up, they’d realize it was a simple pain whammy. Utterly ineffective against me, but conveniently timed.

But it still wasn’t domestic bliss, even after all that. Sam and Dean didn’t rush to my side and declare their love for me. No. There were still months of waiting and torture to come. First there were endless road trips, crisscrossing the US, Canada, and Mexico. Books were poured over for hours on end. Every guru, priest, wiccan and psychic they could find was counseled, questioned, and asked for advice. Dean even braved a flight to Germany when they heard of a specialist on celestial energy. All of this was done for me.

I’d avoided being sent away and in fact had the extra joy of being the sole focus of Dean and Sam’s attention as they taught me to deal with my overwhelming new human attributes. My lust and their caution seemed forgotten as they taught me how to shave, and dress, and properly tend to my bathroom needs. I admit, I played a little extra dumb just to get so much hands-on assistance. Really, buttoning up a pair of jeans isn’t that hard. I’m surprised Dean and Sam never got suspicious. 

And I found my advances were not so quickly or harshly rejected, and so much was allowed to slide for the sake of comforting me. When I stubbed my toe, I gave in to limping and holding back tears, and was rewarded with Sam carrying me to the car. When I claimed my stomach was upset and forced myself to throw up, Dean wiped my face with a damp cloth and helped me change into clean clothes. When I said I couldn’t sleep, they let me curl up in their bed.

But as devious as I was, it never amounted to more than platonic care. If I clung too long in a comforting hug, I was gently released. If I ducked in for a kiss, I was coaxed away. Sporting an erection and asking Dean what I should do about it amounted to a blushing explanation and a push into the bathroom alone. And always these denials were mixed with the phrase.

“Don’t, Cas. You’ll be an angel again soon.”

Remember when I said the Winchester’s determination was admirable? After months of feigning to be human and chasing every ghost of a whisper about fixing a fallen angel, their determination was less than lovable. And even though I was still actually an angel, I couldn’t help but break down and doubt myself. If it truly was love, as I’d thought it to be, the greatest gift my father had ever given, then why was it not enough for Dean and Sam to overcome? I could feel their affection growing for me, but could not fathom why they would not take the last step. Desperately they clung to the idea that I might be an angel again, but why did that keep them at bay?

You might wonder why I didn’t simply read their minds, but I had given it up. When I supposedly became human, I knew I wouldn’t be able to act the part fully, so little by little, I packed my grace away, easing myself into the discomfort of being human. I kept it in a tight little ball in the very base of my spine so that I wouldn’t be tempted to use it except in the most dire situations. That said, it was safer to avoid reading Sam and Dean’s minds because it would be hard to remember to keep the facts straight. I had made that mistake before and I couldn’t slip up again. So I was left fumbling in the dark like so many mortals do, and left to depression and ceaseless wonderings of what to do next. This is what saved me.

“I think we’ve got a lead in Georgia,” Dean said plopping down on the bed beside me. We’d only just gotten into New Mexico that morning to see a Wiccan. As usual, she was no help whatsoever. The prospect of leaving in the morning for more days of driving was not something I looked forward to, so I grumbled a reply. Dean forced a smile and pulled me under his arm for a squeeze. I loved this, how they comforted me, and I leaned into his touch to fully enjoy his heat and scent.

“C’mon. This is a good one. Charlie found him,” Dean said. 

“There’s no cure,” I said to Dean, urging him to believe me with a plea in my voice. “I’m going to be human forever.”

“You don’t know that,” Dean said, trying to sound encouraging, but not really pulling it off. “We just started. We’ll find something.”

“Why won’t you listen?” I asked, shaking my head, feeling the heat of anger rising up in me. “I can’t be fixed. I’m stuck like this. Forever. When will you… When will you accept that?”

My voice had risen and words rushed from my mouth through gritted teeth. My anger and frustration was so intense, I was left panting from the effort of it. Dean tugged me closer to him, to calm me down, but I struggled against him, for once not wanting his touch because it wasn’t what I really wanted.

“Cas, calm down,” said Sam. He was on the other side of me, boxing me in on the bed between Dean, all soothing words and big strong hands to keep me from throwing my tantrum. 

“No!” I shouted. I could feel heat behind my eyes, that wretched prickle that meant tears were coming, but I fought them back, not wanting to give into them. “I’m not… I won’t be an angel again… please… I just want…. Just want…”

I’m not sure what I was going to say because my fight gave out of me then and I lost the battle against my vessel and its physical desires. Anger, depression, sadness, they worked against me and my tears fell free, running hot down my cheeks. The prickle eased and it felt like a relief to let them go and I wondered why I’d held them back for so long.

Callused fingers swiped at my cheeks. Dean’s hands cupped my face, rubbing the tears away, smearing against my wet lashes. Looking into his eyes I saw worry and affection and that little glimmer which I always thought was love, but was always denied. I saw these emotions in his eyes and was almost too distracted to notice that Dean was leaning in to kiss me. Just a soft press of lips against mine, but intimate and lingering. He stayed pressed close and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

I made a sound, a small gasp or whimper of surprise, and Dean was at work again, kissing me more insistently. He parted my lips with his tongue, sought inside, and I let him, swallowing as he murmured “sorry” again and again into my mouth. I don’t know what he was apologizing for. Not finding a cure. Falling in love with me. Not loving me sooner. I didn’t care what the apologies were for, so long as he didn’t stop kissing me.

I didn’t think it could get much better except then Sam was kissing my neck. His long, strong arms were around my waist holding me tight as I trembled in their arms. He kissed and suckled, leaving bruises on my neck, marking me up and making me theirs. 

My months of failed seduction were paying off. Their kisses were hungry and edged with desperation. Too many nights of self-denial had built up too high for them to control once it was let free. Hands grabbed at me, Sam’s perhaps, tugging off my shirt and forcing Dean and I to break our breath-stealing kisses. But then they continued lower, Dean taking his turn to mark up my skin with raspberry colored bruises while Sam took a turn with my mouth. I gasped and panted for him, breathless and dizzy with pleasure.

“Shoulda done this sooner,” Dean said once he got to the top of my pants. He bit my hip-bone, making me squawk with the sharpness of the pain which sent electric shocks to my groin. I would have made a pithy reply in agreement, but got quickly distracted as Dean unbuttoned my jeans. He tugged them down quickly with my underwear and unashamedly, my cock sprang free, jutting up and out, just as wanting of attention as I was. 

“You sure made it hard not to,” Sam husked into my ear. From behind me, he ran his hands all up and down my naked skin. Tickling against my ribs, gripping my hip bones, stroking my thighs. I felt a thrill of excitement that my attempts at seduction had been somewhat effective, if only incredibly delayed. 

“He made lots of things hard,” Dean said. He shifted up onto his knees, between my legs, and I could see the hard line of his cock within his jeans. I felt it wasn’t fair that I was the only one naked and reached out to unbutton Dean’s pants, pushing them open while he sat back and allowed me. He shimmied them lower and his cock strained beautifully against his boxer briefs. I leaned forward to bury my face between his legs, rubbing against him and inhaling deeply. Dean’s hands tangled in my hair and he pushed against my face gently, grunting from the friction. 

Sam was undressing but I was distracted by Dean’s dick and working it out of his underwear so I could see it, maybe even taste it. I had thousands of ideas in my head of what I wanted to do with them, creative and illicit fantasies I had nurtured in the shower. But before I could get my lips around Dean, I was pulled back, tugged close to Sam who was naked now. He laid back on the bed and set me on top of him, so that our cocks slotted against each other. It felt so good I gave up my protests about losing Dean. 

“We’re gonna take care of you now,” Sam said, rocking his hips up against me, encouraging me to grind down against him with those overly-large hands on my hips. 

“Promise. Won’t let you go,” Dean said from behind me, now divested of his clothes and rubbing his cock against my back, then between my thighs, bumping all three cocks together.

“You’re ours,” they said, almost in unison among grunts and groans. Slip slide of wet bodies together, meeting all at once for the first time, but knowing it would be many more. We were all rut and ride, sticky sweet and fire hot. I kept my grace in that tight little ball, let it lay dormant so I could feel everything only as a human would. A twinge of a muscle, a trickle of sweat, a pinch of skin – but then the heart racing, the pulse in the groin, the electric touch of each thrust and pull. Then the final explosion, let loose, satisfying and final, then followed by two more.

I remember being sandwiched between them afterwards as we panted and cooled down. Always and forever it was my favorite position. One I was teased and called greedy for. But can you blame me for wanting to be so physically and symbolically surrounded by the men I love most? I had them and I was determined to never let them go. So when my grace tried to peek out again, to survey the scene, I locked it even deeper, told it to sleep and relax and leave me be. I had everything I needed. 

~

Present Day

Dean and Sam sat in silence for a while once Castiel stopped speaking. It was a lot to take in. They knew the story well since it was their life, but this addition to the story, the secret chapter and end notes they never knew about changed everything and made it hard to accept all in one sitting.

“You could have told us,” Sam said, trying to handle the hurt from a long standing lie with as much calmness as he could muster. In a way, he could understand Castiel’s secret, but put another way, the lack of trust was painful. “You must have known we loved you enough to overcome anything.”

“Perhaps,” Castiel said, though he sounded dubious. The angel banishment sigils on the doors had irked him more than he let on. Did they still hate angels so much that they would banish their own husband? “But if you knew I was an angel, using my grace would be too much of a temptation, and it would be easy to trace. I wished to keep you safe from Heaven, so I only used it when needed.”

“But Cas, you could have protected us,” Dean said, sounding wounded. “What about all those times we got hurt?”

“Like the time you had a heart attack?” Castiel asked.

“I didn’t have-”

“No, you didn’t, because I cleaned out your arteries for you,” Castiel said, proud of the work he’d done and how unnoticed it had gone. “And that time Sam got stabbed by a shifter? It didn’t graze his lung, it went through his heart, but I moved it. I have protected you, as much as I could without being found.”

Sam touched his chest where there was a big, garish scar. Over the years, Castiel had always touched it lovingly, with kisses and soft caresses. Sam had always thought Castiel was trying to reassure him, to make him feel that it wasn’t ugly. Instead it was a mark he bore because of Castiel’s love for him.

“So now what?” Sam asked, sitting down on the couch next to Castiel, but not quite close enough to touch. “Do you want us to pretend you’re human again? Just act like nothing’s changed?”

Dean scoffed at this suggestion, and Castiel narrowed his eyes at that reaction. Of course they couldn’t pretend. Every moment would be a realization that he wasn’t human anymore, in fact, never had been. It would have been nice, to pretend, to even try it, but it wasn’t an option anyway.

“I wish we could,” Castiel said. “But I must return to Heaven. Inias came bearing a message; Heaven is at peace but needs to rebuild. There is a ritual that will repair the damage, and they need all surviving angels to do it. I am the last piece.”

“What sort of ritual?” Sam asked, he and Dean immediately furrowing their brows with distrust and suspicion. All too often, Heaven had offered a simple solution that never worked out well for anyone. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Yes,” Castiel said soothingly, putting his reassurance into the words. “We’ve done it before, after Lucifer was cast from Heaven. It’s completely harmless, but time consuming.”

“How time consuming?” Dean asked, his suspicious flaring up again.

“I’m not certain,” Castiel said, knowing Dean and Sam would not like this answer. “Time can move differently in Heaven, especially during a ritual like this. It could take days, weeks… maybe even a few months.”

“We’re not letting Heaven take you for a few months,” Dean shouted.

“They’re not taking me. I want to go,” Castiel said.

“Now, wait,” Sam said calmly. “Let’s just think about this for a minute. You said they need all surviving angels to work the ritual, but if you weren’t a surviving angel, they could still work the ritual without you, right?”

“You’re not suggesting I kill myself, are you?” Castiel asked, giving Sam a sideways look of doubt.

“No, but, what if you ripped out your grace? They wouldn’t need you, and you could stay here with us.”

“Hey,” Dean said, smiling for the first time since they’d started talking. “That’s a great idea. Cas, would that work?”

“I can’t… I can’t do that,” Castiel said, looking at them both incredulously. After everything they’d said about loving him, and accepting him, and expecting him to have told them the truth. In no time at all, they still wanted him human. 

“Cas, we’ll take care of you,” Sam said, reassuringly. “Being human isn’t that bad.”

“I know,” Castiel said through grit teeth. “I experienced it all. I never lied about that. I kept my grace down, let myself get sick, and hurt, and age, just like you did. I wanted to be human for you in every way that I could, but not that. I can’t do that.”

“And why the hell not?” Dean asked.

“Do you know what happens to a fallen angel when it dies?” Castiel asked. “Nothing. It just blinks out of existence; no Heaven, no Hell, not even Purgatory. When you two die, you will go to your Heaven, but I would never see you again.”

“Cas,” Sam said, shocked by this revelation. Even Dean couldn’t think of anything to say. Dying and going to Heaven together was a fact that Sam and Dean knew ages ago. They shared a Heaven and knew they would be together forever. They had assumed Castiel would be there as well, somehow. Or else they would tear Heaven apart to find him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Castiel said, shaking his head to rid himself of his dark thoughts. “There’s no more time to talk. I must return to Heaven now.”

“What, now?” Sam said. “You can’t leave now, we’re in the middle of a discussion here.”

“There’s nothing more to discuss,” Castiel said. “I must go now. I will return. Please, just…” 

But Castiel trailed off, unsure what he was going to ask them. To understand? To wait for him? To still want him when he returned? He wasn’t sure. Dean reached out for Castiel, and Sam got up from the couch, and though they reached for Castiel, he brushed off their hands easily, falling back on his inhuman strength once again, a sudden reminder to his lovers that he wasn’t human. With a last look at both of them, Castiel disappeared with the telltale flutter of wings that marked his kind.

~

Day 1

Dean and Sam got a few hours of sleep the first day Castiel was gone. They couldn’t go a whole night without sleeping anymore, but despite their exhaustion, sleep was not easy to hold on to. By late afternoon they were awake again and trudging around the house, each wound tight enough to snap and just waiting to see who would break first.

Sam was making an early dinner, canned soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. He made enough for three out of habit and sighed when Dean came in and frowned at the three portions. Without comment, Dean split up the third sandwich and put half on each of their plates.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Sam asked, his voice a cracked whisper from disuse all day. Dean just looked up at him, glowering, and went back to eating, dipping his sandwich into his soup aggressively.

“Dean,” Sam said, trying to get a response.

“Please Sam,” Dean groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve been thinking myself around in circles all day. Just give it a rest and let me eat my dinner.”

Sam ate a few more bites of his sandwich in respectful, but contemplative silence. Dean looked relieved and ate his food. He should have known it wouldn’t last though. 

“You think they’ll try to keep him? They’ve done it before.”

“Sam!” Dean growled, glaring at his brother to make sure he shut up. Sam was silent for a heartbeat.

“If we pray to him, do you think it’d be too distracting?”

Dean grabbed his plate and bowl and went to the living room. There had to be a game on somewhere, and he could use the sound to drown out Sam’s insistent talking, and distract him from his own doubting thoughts. Sam was kind enough to take the hint and leave Dean alone.

~

Day 7

Dean rolled over in bed, seeking warmth and comfort, but it wasn’t there. He rolled again, searchingly, and grazed against Sam’s leg. Sam stirred in his sleep and shifted away. Annoyed, Dean jerked the blankets away and rolled himself into a ball in the middle of the king sized bed. For so many years they’d complained about how small it was, especially when Sam slept in the middle. Now it seemed vast and empty with only two bodies in it.

The hunter phones rang crashingly through the house, jarring the silence that had settled. On the other end, hunters were confused when they heard Sam or Dean’s voice. Where is Castiel? they asked, before getting gruff answers to their questions. 

Sam made too much food again, and Dean yelled at him. Raising his voice felt good in the quiet house. Dean told him he was wasting food. There were leftovers piling up in the fridge with no way to eat all of them before they spoiled.

They couldn’t even go about their usual chores without the silence sinking in. No Castiel to call them to lunch as they worked. Castiel did not hand Dean tools so he didn’t have to keep bending over and strain his back. Castiel wasn’t there to help Sam translate a difficult passage. He wasn’t there to criticize either of their TV choices that night, or help them settle on something they could all agree on. They went to bed without watching anything, and both of them tossed and turned in the empty bed.

~

Day 30

Dean woke up to Sam biting his shoulder, and his cock pressed up against Dean’s ass. It was a rare enough occurrence these days that they didn’t ever pass it up. But it hadn’t occurred since Castiel left, so Dean felt strange when Sam turned him onto his back and was reaching into the bedside drawer for the lube. It wasn’t like they had never had sex without Castiel around. He was out some nights, or sometimes just too tired, or even just in the other room. But this was different because they wouldn’t tell him about it later, or he wouldn’t wander in and watch them. 

Their kisses were clumsy, and so were Sam’s fingers. Dean bit back a hiss as Sam went just a little too fast. The last time they’d had sex was before Castiel left, so he was tight and unused to it. Sam mumbled an apology, for the pain, and their neglect for the past month. Dean accepted the apology, kissing Sam and pulling him closer, wanting to connect with him.

Sam pushed in, hot and hard for a few thrusts, jerky and overly eager, but then softening a bit and slipping out. “Sorry,” he mumbled, jerking his cock back to hardness. This wasn’t unusual either, and Dean reached to help him, stroking his cock, guiding it back in. For a moment, it worked, but then, it didn’t anymore.

“Lemme just…” Sam said, biting his lip in thought.

“Lie back. I’ll use my mouth,” Dean said, pushing Sam back and taking him in. The first few sucks had the chemical taste of the lube, but then there was the taste of Sam. He was warm in Dean’s mouth, and the way Sam trembled, he knew what he wanted. Sam got harder in his mouth, but slowly, a little nip helped a little more, and then Dean pushed him back, tried to mount Sam. But it wouldn’t stay upright long enough, went soft even as he pushed it inside himself with his fingers.

“Dean, what if we…”

A few more positions. More mouths and hands. But exhaustion won out. Hearts beating rapidly like they’d just come, but half-hard cocks belying that, they slumped into the rumpled bed sheets. Sam stretched out on his back staring at the ceiling, while Dean rested his head against Sam’s chest, he cheek inadvertently covering Sam’s scar. Eventually they got up to shower and start the day.

~

Day 63

The girls – no, women – Dean had to remind himself. They were in their twenties. Not girls anymore. Charity and Kayla Granieri, twins, but gratefully not identical. Dean thought they had the worst names ever for a pair of hunters, but they were good nonetheless. They were born into it like Sam and Dean, but unlike Sam and Dean, their parents were both still alive, actively hunting together in New Mexico while their two daughters were tracking a suspected rugaru right there in Ohio. Being so close to the very famous Winchesters, they showed a surprising level of respect by asking for Sam and Dean’s help. At least their parents had raised them right. 

“Was it tough when you were younger?” Charity asked Sam. She was the more bookish of the two, and Dean easily likened her to Sam. She had marveled at Sam’s library and he was showing her his collection of journals. “Like, I know gay marriage wasn’t totally legal when you guys were young.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “Yeah, it was tough sometimes. But most people didn’t notice. They even thought we were brothers sometimes,” Sam said with a laugh. Charity laughed too and talked about another old married couple who she says went through the same thing. Sam is at once relieved and saddened that there are not many people left who once knew Sam and Dean, the Winchester brothers. Being gay was one thing, even a polyamorous relationship didn’t raise too many eyebrows among hunters. But incest pretty much drew the line. As more old hunters who knew John and his two boys died off, Sam, Dean, and Castiel introduced themselves as husbands instead.

“Where is Mr. Cas?” Charity asked. Calling all three of them Mr. Winchester was too confusing, but Kayla and Charity didn’t feel comfortable calling men older than their parents by their first names. The casual/formal hybrid was an endearing compromise for everyone. 

“Visiting family,” Dean said, more brusquely than he’d meant, startling both the women. He coughed and was relieved when something finally popped up on his computer screen. “Got a lot of raw meat deliveries to a residential address.”

The women thanked Sam and Dean for their help, particularly the pamphlet Sam had given them on effective rugaru rehabilitation and control. They even invited them to come on the hunt with them, just for a little back-up. Dean was about to say yes, just to get out of their empty house, but Sam was a little more careful with their age and complained about his ulcer acting up. Dean teased him about it after the women left and even threatened to put him on a special diet for fibbing.

~

6 Months

“It’s getting warmer every day. The bushes out front are starting to bloom, and my hay fever’s acting up. I keep meaning to go out and trim them. Starting to look like a jungle out there. Those Granieri girls came by again, Kayla and Charity. I think they’re trying to adopt us or something. They weren’t on a hunt. Just passing through and spent the night. Sam made them pancakes for breakfast. They didn’t even mind that it was the whole wheat ones…”

“Who’re you talking to?” Sam asked, walking in on Dean standing in front of their bathroom mirror, head bowed slightly as he murmured just loud enough for Sam to hear as he walked by. Dean startled and whipped around to glare at Sam for interrupting him. 

“No one. Just mumbling to myself. Can’t an old man mumble to himself?”

“You’re not old enough to be a kook yet,” Sam said with a teasing smile, but then it turned warmer and softer, and he looked up, but not at the ceiling, through it. “It sounded like you were telling someone about your day.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Dean said, following Sam’s gaze nonetheless.

Dean tried to brush by Sam, pushing him out of the way as he left the bathroom, but Sam barred him in, still broader and stronger than Dean. Dean glared at him, ready for a fight, but deflating when he saw Sam still smiling at him.

“I do it too,” Sam whispered, admitting it like a dirty confession at a slumber party. “I tell him about my research, so he won’t be too far behind when he gets back.”

“And if he doesn’t come back?” Dean said, finally slipping past Sam and into their bedroom.

“If you think that, then why do you pray to him?”

Dean’s hands fisted around the hem of his shirt where he was about to pull it over his head. He froze for a moment, jaw clenching before he pulled it over and tossed it toward the hamper. Why was he praying? And was it even praying? Castiel never replied. He didn’t think he would. And he couldn’t even be sure he was listening, that he even wanted to hear about it.

“You do think he’ll come back,” Sam teased.

“I don’t,” Dean said gruffly, the words too quick and sharp out of his mouth. He could see Sam was hurt by them and tugged him close, burying his face in that broad chest of his. “I just wish he would.”

“He will,” Sam said, his promise almost believable. So much so that Dean pulled him down on to the bed for heated kisses and groping hands. Clothes fell away, landing nowhere near the hamper. Their bodies crashed together, violent and desperate after so long apart. They’d had warmth and comfort from each other, even the brotherly affection that they still shared, but this had been missing, the passion that had felt so empty without their lover. 

“I wish you were here, Cas,” Dean said as he pushed Sam back, spread his legs, pressed wet fingers between his cheeks. “Wish you could see Sam like this.”

“Yeah, Cas. Wish you could feel this,” Sam panted, urging his words up and out while Dean prepared him. “Love how you look when Dean fingers you.”

“He made pretty noises, didn’t he?” Dean asked, dredging up similar noises from Sam as he prodded his prostate. 

“Does,” Sam corrected. “Bet he makes pretty noises in Heaven, touching himself and thinking about us up there. But he can’t touch like you do, huh Dean?”

“No,” Dean said, removing his fingers and slicking himself up. Sam shifted over to his belly, raising his hips up for Dean to get inside him. He knew he was in for a good pounding, but wouldn’t be able to take it on his back for too long without his legs cramping up. So he relaxed and spread for the insistent press of Dean’s cock as it nudged between his cheeks and pushed inside. It’d been too long and he felt tight, unused to being penetrated after so long. 

“Slowly,” he said, trembling slightly from the pressure. “Make it last. For Cas.”

“You watching, honey?” Dean asked, slowing down like Sam said, but making it a show, as if there really were someone watching. Castiel had enjoyed watching them. They had a comfortable lounge chair in the bedroom for just that. Imagining him watching, like he always used to, made Dean’s blood boil. Once Sam was relaxed, felt looser and more pliable, he drew out and thrust back in quickly. Sam shuddered and asked for more, spreading his legs further apart in clear invitation.

“Fuck,” Sam groaned as Dean started working him over, pounding into him fast and hard, drawing his dick out almost all the way, and then jamming back into him and doing that thing with his hips that made his dick grind around in all the right ways. “Cas, feels so good,” Sam moaned, bucking his hips back up to meet Dean’s thrusts and directing every breathy, heated pant toward Heaven.

“He’s so tight, Cas,” Dean said, grunting out his words, making them like a prayer. “Like a fuckin’ virgin again. You’d nut off in no time if you could feel this.”

The sound of slapping flesh rang through the room, accompanied by the filthiest prayers ever aimed at an angel while Dean and Sam dirty talked their way like old pros. They told Cas how much they wanted him sucking Sam’s cock, how much he’d love cleaning out Sam’s ass when Dean was done, how they’d spit-roast him when they were finished and he couldn’t stand watching anymore. 

Castiel wasn’t there. But for the first time in so long it felt like he was again, just over their shoulders and watching. Imagining him there was greater than the touch of their own skin, the words egging each of them on. It created a feeling of completeness that they had been missing for too many months, unable to find wholeness in each other anymore. 

They both called out Castiel’s name when they came, their mutual prayer coming to an end. With a muffled laugh in the back of Sam’s neck, Dean even said ‘amen,’ which made them both laugh until tears streamed down their faces. Though the tears weren’t fully from laughter.

Sam knew he would regret skipping a shower in the morning, but it was impossible to escape the bed and the warmth they had created. The glow of their lovemaking hung over them and coalesced with the words from their prayers. There was no way to know if Castiel could hear them, but they wanted him to.

~

10 Months

It was their anniversary. There hadn’t been a ceremony when they got married, no one was invited or knew about it, but they’d made promises that day, sitting on a beach watching the sun set. They even exchanged rings. Sam gave one to Castiel, Castiel gave one to Dean, and Dean gave one to Sam. They didn’t match, but they were on the right fingers. The law didn’t recognize it, but no one could tell them different.

Sam and Dean awaited the day with apprehension, neither one talking about it. Usually, they made plans. Went to the city, or even took a trip somewhere, usually with a beach. This was the first year they didn’t. The day started, Sam and Dean looked at each other, but didn’t say anything. The day stretched on with no mention of the occasion.

It wasn’t until dinner that there seemed to be any concession to the day. Dean was cooking, and he put together a feast – hamburgers, sweet potato fries, coleslaw, and Sam’s favorite, chocolate cake. Everything was made from scratch except the cake, but at least Dean made it from a mix. It was a great concession since he still valued pie much more. 

Sam smiled at the cake, covered in thick, chocolaty icing starting to drip down the sides from the heat in the kitchen. He was glad Dean made the effort, because it meant he wouldn’t feel bad as he pulled a box out of one of the cupboards and set it next to Dean’s plate. 

“What’s this?” Dean asked.

“A present, dumbass. Open it,” Sam said.

“Didn’t get you anything…” Dean muttered as he tore at the paper, his eyes wide and bright with anticipation. Inside the box was a single key attached to a key ring bearing a Cobra, reared up and hissing. “Did you…” Dean swallowed hard. “Did you get me what I think you got me?”

Sam nodded and then laughed as Dean bolted out of his seat and ran out the door to inspect his garage. Sam followed him out. He could eat his cake later. Dean was in the garage, moaning softly and fondling the sparkling blue and white 1964 Shelby Cobra.

“You got it with the racing stripes!” Dean exclaimed, running his fingers up along the straight lines on the hood. “How’s she run?”

“Guy who sold it says she needed a little work and maintenance,” Sam said, and smiled as Dean moaned again with happiness. He loved working on the cars, making them his, making them mint, plus a little extra. He already had the hood up before Sam could pull him away. “C’mon, let’s finish dinner and then you can play with your new toy.”

“Just wanna check her out,” Dean said petulantly, but let Sam lead him back into the house. He was clutching the keys, like he wouldn’t let them go, rubbing his thumb over the Cobra emblem and grinning like a child. In fact, throughout the meal, he didn’t let the key go and somehow managed to eat his burger one handed. 

Sam brought his cake out with him while Dean played with his latest acquisition, tinkering in the engine, letting it run to see how she sounded. “Can we take her for a spin?” Sam asked, finishing his cake and setting the plate aside.

“Mm, yeah, I think so. Just around the block though,” Dean said. He settled into the seat easily, getting himself comfortable. As with many classic cars, Sam was a tighter fit, but he squeezed himself in and got as comfortable as he could. Then Dean turned around so he could back the car out. He froze.

“It’s a two-seater,” he said, looking at Sam.

“A lot of great cars are two-seaters,” Sam said slowly. “That’s not a good reason not to get one.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” Dean said. He paused for another moment, and then carefully backed out, so he could give his new car a spin with his husband.

~

1 Year and 1 Day

“Where is that damn illuminated bible?” Dean said, tearing through Sam’s library and tossing books all over the place.

“Will you calm down?” Sam asked, grabbing books out of Dean’s hands before he could break anymore spines. “It’s under R for religious texts.” 

“Should be in B for bible!” Dean shouted, stomping over to the bookshelf with the religious books and taking down the bible he was looking for. He slammed it down on Sam’s desk, making him wince, and kept browsing through the other tomes on the shelves. “How about that book of angelic spells Bobby had during the apocalypse?”

“Spells – S,” Sam said, but got there before Dean did and pulled the book out for him, setting it gently down on the desk next to the bible.

“Do we have any frankincense in the house? Or do I need to go out and get some?”

“Dean,” Sam said steadily as Dean was searching the glass cabinets where they kept their ingredients. He gently plucked a bottle out of Dean’s hands. He was fumbling them around and leaving bits and pieces all over the floor.

“Where’s the metal bowl? The big fucking, big bowl,” Dean asked, flailing his hands around to indicate the size of the bowl they used for rituals.

“Up there,” Sam said, pointing to the top of the bookshelf. “What are you even conjuring?”

“Cas. Obviously. I’m bringing his ass home whether he likes it or not.”

“And if he’s still in the middle of the ritual? He may not even show.”

“Oh he’ll show,” Dean growled, reaching up to the top of the shelf, straining on his tiptoes and glaring at Sam at the same time for not helping him. He could reach it no problem. He caught the rim with his fingers, slid it over, gripped it, and then forgot how heavy it was as it almost slipped out of his hand. He twisted to keep from dropping it, and then let out a howl of pain.

“Ow! Son of a bitch… Sam, my back…. Fuck!” Dean groaned. Sam rushed to his side, got him under the arm pits easily, and then laid him out on his back, moaning all the way with pain. Sam got a pillow under his head, and then fetched a bottle of pain killers.

“I hope you’re happy,” Dean grumbled as he swallowed the pills.

“Yes, I’m ecstatic that you put your back out and I’ll have to wait on you hand and foot for days.”

“Do the ritual,” Dean whined.

“No. He’ll come back when he’s finished.”

“You think he’ll really come back? You think they’ll let him?”

“Yeah, they won’t be able to stop him. You’ll see,” Sam said, but he looked away as he said it, looking up through the ceiling of their house wistfully. 

~

1 year and 27 days

They forgot Castiel’s birthday.

“You remember the twins’ birthday and get them a gift, but you forget Cas? Our husband?” Dean shouted.

“Their mom texted me,” Sam shouted back. “You’re the one that’s supposed to put things on the calendar.”

“I shouldn’t have to put Cas’ birthday on the calendar. Mine’s not on there. Yours isn’t. We didn’t forget those.”

“Well, what were you expecting to do? Did you want to take him out to dinner? Buy him some wood-working tools?”

“It doesn’t matter what we do, we’re supposed to remember!”

“Excuse me, but you forgot too,” Sam said, stabbing an accusing finger into Dean’s chest. “Just because he’s gone a year, you don’t remember him anymore?”

“I pray to him every night, and you know it,” Dean said, pushing Sam away with a rough shove. “When was the last time you prayed to him?”

“At least I didn’t steal his work table for my tools,” Sam threw into Dean’s face.

“I needed the space! He was in the middle of making one for me when he left. I’ll return it if he comes back.”

“If?” Sam taunted. “Now it’s if he comes back?”

“When he comes back, I’m clearing off his stupid bench, and I’m telling him you forgot his birthday.”

“You didn’t put it on the calendar!”

~

1 year and 73 days

Sam and Dean returned from the grocery store, relaxed and at ease. Together, they put the groceries away, chatting quietly. Dean had picked up a tabloid magazine about werewolves in Minnesota. Said he was going to check on it and pass it to the Granieri sisters if they were up for it. The two were making quite a name for themselves, taking on tough cases and showing grit and determination. Dean worried about them, but didn’t want Sam to know. Of course, Sam knew. 

There was a football game that afternoon, so Sam was cooking up nachos, piled high and covered in cheese, ground beef, chilies, and beans, cooked to gooey perfection in the oven. Dean got bowls of salsa and sour cream, and two chilled beers to set out on the coffee table. He even grabbed a few napkins, and with a second thought, a bottle of Tums for when the nachos inevitably made their vengeful return. 

“What do you think about going to Minnesota?” Dean asked, passing the tabloid to Sam as they sat down on the couch together with the steaming plate of nachos. “We haven’t been on a trip in a while.”

“Hunting trip. Fun,” Sam said, a little dead pan as he dug into their lunch.

“We can show Kayla and Charity a few things.”

“Mm, remember how much we loved when Bobby told us what to do?” Sam teased. 

“Everyone needs a Bobby in their life.”

“Fine, but you’re the cranky part of Bobby. I get to be the he’s always right part.”

“Can I be the alcoholic part, too?” Dean asked, tipping back his beer and taking a long pull.

“No,” Sam said with a laugh. 

They continued their banter, talking out the logistics of getting to Minnesota and which car they’d take. The Impala for old time’s sake, or something a little less valuable? Sam had his laptop open, looking for news in the area to back-up the tabloid. The TV ran on in the background, half paid attention to. The nachos were eaten. Beers were replaced.

Far away from them, and unfelt by most of existence, the ritual in Heaven finally ended, a smashing success. Jubilant, the angels cried out in song, and the harmony rang out through Heaven. All around them, the celestial firmament was repaired, and among them were new brethren, created to fill the ranks of those that had fallen. Though newly created, these angels were given all the knowledge of the old, so that there was no distinction between the two. 

Castiel among them celebrated as heartily as the others. When he had first returned to Heaven, knowing that much of the damage had been his fault, he was wary. He had returned out of duty, ready to face any consequences he must, but was pleasantly surprised that Inias’ promises had not been greatly exaggerated. He was not greeted with wholehearted enthusiasm, but his presence there was their path to recovery, and their appreciation was apparent. 

“Thank you, Castiel,” Inias said, embracing Castiel with celestial energy. Castiel tangled back with Inias, showing his own thanks and gratefulness that the ritual was a success. “Now, with the ritual complete, and Heaven back in order, we can get back to our heavenly duties, as they were intended by our father.”

“I wish you the best of luck with that,” Castiel said warmly. 

“Then the rumors are true,” Inias said, his grace prickly with curiosity and concern. “You do intend to return to earth.”

“Sam and Dean are there,” Castiel said, a wash of love pouring out of him when he said their names. Inias flushed from the wave of it, unused to the sort of erotic love Castiel was expressing, but warmed by the sincerity of it nonetheless. “I’ve already been away longer than I wanted.”

“Castiel,” Inias said, wrapping his grace around Castiel. It was like when Dean wrapped his arm over Castiel’s shoulder, tugging him close for a heart-to-heart discussion. “Why not stay here with us? Your help has been recognized. The bad feelings from before have all but dissipated, and will improve more if you stay.”

“Thank you, Inias,” Castiel said. “But I promised them I would return… and you promised you would allow me,” Castiel went on, showing his appreciation through his grace, but then also his concern and fear that Inias would not let him leave. Inias’ eyes widened, and he was quick to console and comfort.

“No, Castiel! I promised. It’s not like that. We won’t force you to stay. I just don’t understand why you would return. You were forced to be human for them… you suffered and felt pain, and for what?”

“My suffering and pain were my choice, not theirs,” Castiel said. “But now, I have to give them the choice I didn’t trust them with before.”

“What if they do not make the right choice?” Inias asked.

“I must have faith,” Castiel said, though his grace ebbed on those words, not as strong as he intended them to be. Inias felt this, as they felt all emotions expressed in Heaven and reached out to comfort his brother and lend his strength.

~

“See? It’s supposed to be right here,” Sam said, crouching low on the floor to show Dean the empty gap in his bookshelf. It was the hunter journals that he had carefully collected, and he desperately wanted one in particular by Janelle Kulenok. The werewolf case in Minnesota looked promising, but it wasn’t werewolves. Something in it was ringing bells in Sam’s head, but he couldn’t remember what. Janelle had been an expert in Minnesotan folklore and he was certain that her journal would give him a lead. 

“Well, where did you put it?” Dean asked. As usual, he was pretty useless, and incredibly frustrating whenever something was lost.

“If I knew that, it wouldn’t be lost,” Sam snapped, getting angry because he valued his books and didn’t want to be careless about them, especially the journals. They were works of love by countless hunters and their value was incalculable. 

It was as Dean and Sam started warming up for a fight that Castiel appeared. After listening for several hours but hearing no prayers, he returned to the house. Cautiously, he remained invisible so that Sam and Dean wouldn’t know he was there. He just needed to get his bearings before he stepped into the middle of everything again.

Castiel’s heart skipped in his chest when he saw his lovers again for the first time in so long. Even in the middle of a fight, they were beautiful. Usually, he hated it when they fought, the tension so jarring and unnatural. He’d always avoided arguments, even when he wasn’t in them. But after being away for so long, love clouded his vision and he could only see good. The laugh lines around Dean’s eyes, Sam’s silver streaked hair, the energy they both still had, even though it was ebbing just a little bit.

And their house was much the same. The furniture exactly where he remembered it, with all the shelves he’d made for Sam. Their sagging couch and outdated TV. Weren’t they supposed to get a new one for Christmas? And there were books strewn around, the height of research which brought back memories, fond with the passage of time, though they hadn’t been when they were happening. 

But some things had changed, and the warm glow faded from Castiel’s chest. His boots were missing from beside the door. Even in summer, they didn’t get put away, because there was nowhere else to put them. His blanket was gone as well, the one they kept over the back of the couch because Castiel was notoriously thin blooded and got cold easily. In the kitchen, his bread-maker was no longer on the counter, and in their bedroom, there were only two pillows, and neither of the ones were Castiel’s. The closet was also emptied of his clothes. 

Castiel returned to the library where Dean and Sam’s fight was boiling down, no real anger displaying itself. He watched as his lovers moved around each other casually and comfortably, like no part of them was missing, or ever had been. Dean was carefully checking each book on every shelf because otherwise Sam was going to make him check all the boxes in the attic.

“I wish Cas was here,” Sam said suddenly with a sigh. Castiel’s heart jumped up into his throat at those words, his misery side-railed for the moment. “He was always good at finding things.”

“Yeah, he’d probably find my reading glasses, too,” Dean said.

“Another pair?” Sam asked, his voice rising quickly for another argument. “You know how expensive those are.”

“I had them yesterday… I just put them down somewhere.”

Castiel’s memory flashed to other arguments about Dean’s lost glasses, usually a fault of carelessness than anything else. He often left them in unusual places, perhaps a subconscious desire to lose them on purpose. Quickly, Castiel checked around the house in the usual places, then, just as Dean was about to stalk off, Castiel spoke.

“They’re in the bathroom drawer. You put them in with your razor. Again,” Castiel said, unveiling himself at the same time so that Sam and Dean could see him.

“C-cas?” Dean stuttered, so surprised by Castiel’s sudden appearance he couldn’t say anything else.

“And the journal is in my workroom. I borrowed it and forgot to put it back. I’m sorry.” The apology was lame and automatic, but not untrue. 

“Cas!” Sam shouted, and his face split into a wide smile. Dean’s did too, and then Castiel was crowded in as both men bounded toward him and wrapped him in their arms, hot and strong, and immediately familiar. This, more than the house, was coming home.

“What happened to you?” Dean asked, smiling but bewildered as he reached up to touch Castiel’s face.

“Huh?” Castiel asked, but then it dawned on him. “Oh… When I returned to Heaven, my vessel healed itself,” he said, and looked down at his hands. The skin was smooth and unmarred. No dark spots, no scars. He imagined his face was equally smooth and fresh, and his hair jet black again without the distinguished gray. He looked like he did all those years ago when he had first met the Winchesters.

“So… you’re back now, right?” Sam asked warily. “For good?”

“Do you want me to?” Castiel asked, looking up into Sam’s eyes. 

“Of course we do!” Dean said, jerking Castiel’s attention back. “Didn’t you hear us praying? We’ve been going crazy without you.”

“I couldn’t hear them,” Castiel said, but he felt warmth inside him when Dean said that so casually, so insistently. They had prayed for him, and he wished he could pull those prayers out of the ether and keep them close. “But, I can’t be human for you,” Castiel said firmly. “You have to take me back as an angel.”

Dean and Sam both tightened their arms around Castiel, one in front of him, the other behind, smothering him like they wouldn’t let him go. Castiel slumped in their hold, giving in to that human desire to be coddled and comforted. He’d been surrounded by loving energy for over a year, but it had never felt like this, not so intense and personal. He wrapped one arm around Dean, and the other he reached back around Sam’s neck. He didn’t care if Heaven fell from the sky, he’d never leave them again.

“Cas, we have to tell you something,” Sam said, and Castiel immediately disliked the tone. It threatened to burst the happy little bubble he was rebuilding with his lovers. 

“You shouldn’t have had to hide your grace all that time,” Dean said. “We were never bothered by you being an angel.”

“But… Then why wouldn’t you be with me?” Castiel asked, doubt and fear sinking into him as a hundred other faults flooded into his head. Untangling a little, Dean and Sam led Castiel back to the couch, sitting him down and crowding him in on both sides. 

“We were afraid-” Dean started.

“You were afraid,” Sam corrected. Dean glared at him.

“I was afraid, and convinced Sam, that if we got together with you… you’d leave.”

“Leave?” Castiel asked with confusion. “Why would I leave? I love you.”

“Well, yeah, now we know that,” Dean said, embarrassed by his past self and all the explanations he’d made to push his doubts away. “But we weren’t sure before. You could have been called back to Heaven any time and who knows what would have happened to you.”

“We didn’t want to love you and then lose you,” Sam said. “We’d already lost so many people. We thought it would be better if we didn’t let you get too close.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, trying to wrap his mind around this revelation and hardly able to. He realized this must have been what it was like when he told Sam and Dean why he’d pretended to be human. Another stunning chapter unveiled in their love story that changed everything

“Cas… you OK?” Dean asked when Castiel remained silent and staring into space for a little too long. “We didn’t break you, did we?”

“If I’d been more patient, no one would have lied about anything,” Castiel said with a small, humorless laugh. He should have known better, should have used his grace to work out the problem all those years ago. Being an angel had seemed like such a reasonable reason to deny him though, that it had never occurred to him to think of anything else. But he’d understood so little then, even about the two men he loved, and how much he’d been asking them to trust him and let him into their lives. 

“No,” Sam said quickly. “It was our fault. We should have been honest. We should have given you a chance-”

Castiel waved his hand dismissively then covered Sam’s mouth to silence him. He leaned against Dean and pulled Sam closer with him, so they were all piled up again, close and warm. 

“I promise that I will never leave without coming back,” Castiel said solemnly. “So long as you always want me back as an angel.”

“Of course we want you back as an angel,” Sam said, with his brow furrowed in confusion. “But, is that it? You’re not going to be pissed at us? You had to pretend to be human all that time because of what we said.”

“And I lied to you about being a human. You wanna be pissed at me for that, too?”

“No,” Sam mumbled.

“I wanna be pissed!” Dean said suddenly, and Castiel looked to him, just a little concerned for a moment. “I’m pissed that I never got any angel sex. Dude, do you know what you could do with all that super strength and telekinesis and stuff?”

“Dean, what is wrong with you?” Sam asked with a scowl.

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Dean huffed. “I’ve missed my husband, and I think he needs to make it up to us.”

“Dean, don’t be such a-” Sam said, but Castiel shushed him yet again.

“No, he’s right,” Castiel said sweetly. “But he has to wait, because you need to catch me up on every little thing I’ve missed.”

~

A few hours later, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were curled up in bed together. Some of their clothes were shed, for comfort, but they were still talking, filling Castiel in on the past year. He was relieved to discover, achingly so, that they had not thrown anything of his away as he had feared. Instead, it was all packed away neatly in the attic. It had been too painful to look at his things every day, and that, very secretly, made Castiel happy as well. 

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh at Dean and Sam’s cover story for him – that he had an ailing sister in Germany that had needed his personal care. However, some people thought she had cancer, and others thought she had Alzheimer’s because Dean and Sam hadn’t gotten their stories straight. 

Finally, Castiel was annoyed, though he hid it well, that they’d forgotten his birthday, and then adding insult to injury, Sam had unthinkingly bought Dean a two-seater car. His jealousy flared just a little bit and he decreed that they were never allowed to drive it together. Only he and Dean could ride in it, or he and Sam. They’d had enough time on their own that Castiel needed to make up for.

“What are we going to tell the neighbors about our kept boy?” Dean asked teasingly, running his hands through Castiel’s hair. It was thick and soft again and he couldn’t stop touching it. Sam had a pretty strong hold on Castiel’s butt, giving the firmed up globes a gentle squeeze every so often.

“I’ll be able to age my vessel back to its previous age,” Castiel said, then smiled when he saw Sam and Dean’s slightly disappointed expressions. “However, it may take a few weeks.”

“Guess we’ll just have to keep you inside,” Sam said, smiling at this consolation and giving Castiel’s butt another squeeze, massaging gently. Castiel murmured quietly and pushed back against Sam’s hand. His curiosity was piqued by Dean’s earlier joke, and he wondered what it would be like to have sex as an angel. He had always kept his grace tightly compressed when they were intimate, so he could feel it like they did. But ‘angel sex’ was an intriguing idea now that everything was out in the open. It certainly opened a lot of possibilities.

“You know what we haven’t done in ages?” Castiel said, his voice sinking low and sultry.

“Had sex?” Dean said, grinning and teasing.

“Well, I was thinking something we haven’t done in years. Not since I hurt my hip…” Castiel said, trailing off after that, because there were only a few things that Castiel’s stiff hip prevented him from doing, and only one in particular that they hadn’t been able to do for several years that involved their bed. Sam and Dean’s eyes widened at the same time as they both realized what Castiel meant, and hungry smiles spread on their lips.

“Dibs on top!” Dean said eagerly as he started stripping off the last of his clothes, a worn t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Sam followed, and then they both tugged at Castiel’s clothes until they had him bare. For a few minutes, they just swallowed in his skin, tight and smooth, and ever so slightly sun kissed. Already, Castiel was excited, eager after being away for over a year, and already settling into his flesh again.

“We haven’t been taking our pills…” Sam said sheepishly. “This may take a bit,” he went on, gesturing to his groin where he was still soft. Dean nodded in embarrassed solidarity. Castiel remembered when all three of them started to falter, unable to perform even when they wanted to. Medicines had certainly improved over the years, but the embarrassment had not. Dean was the most stubborn about it, but Castiel had also been surprisingly disappointed, and it had been the most tempting time to use his grace, on himself, and on his lovers so that they could be together again. Before, he had resisted, now, he reached for both their cocks.

Sam and Dean both grunted from the sudden and firm grip, but then moaned hotly as their cocks jerked to life, swelling up in Castiel’s hands, stiff and rigid. Accompanying it was a swell of heat and energy that gave quickness to their limbs and brightness to their eyes. It was much better than the pep medicine they’d gotten for his birthday the year before.

“Shit, Cas… You were totally holding out on us,” Dean said, panting and flushed with arousal. He felt like he was twenty again and had to look down at his aged skin to convince himself he wasn’t. “How long’s this gonna last?”

“Until I’m done with you,” Castiel said. He was also flushed and breathing heavily, sympathetic arousal in response to Sam and Dean’s, as well as his own pent up desires, released into his body of flesh. 

Castiel considered his two men for a while, and then pushed Sam down, straddling him and giving him a deep kiss. Sam was startled by Castiel’s strength, and his aggression, but settled quickly and gave back just as hard. He could feel his old strength blossoming under Castiel’s healing touch and remembered when he could easily pick Castiel up, hold him against the wall and fuck into him without a break. Now, his knees would wobble too much and they’d end up on the floor in a few minutes, sliding down the wall ungracefully. He wondered if Castiel would be willing to do that later, too. 

Sam dug his hands into Castiel’s hips, his fingers sinking into the soft roundness of his ass. He parted Castiel’s cheeks and held him spread open. He couldn’t see Castiel’s pink hole, but he could feel his muscles tightening and fluttering. He could hear Castiel moaning into his mouth as he was opened and exposed. 

Dean on the other hand had a perfect view and took advantage of it, burying his face between Castiel’s cheeks and getting a good taste of him. Castiel bucked against the intimate touch, vibrating all over from the sensation. 

“You don’t… Don’t need to…” Castiel gasped, but he was very distracted by Dean’s tongue working deep inside him, and then Sam was wrapping his hand around both of their dicks and rubbing them together, so he couldn’t concentrate hard enough to tell Dean he didn’t need any preparation. He figured it out though.

“Fuck, Cas, you’re wet!” Dean said in surprise, pulling back with strings of wetness dripping down his chin. He used his fingers to pry Castiel further apart, and there he was, shiny and pink, like they’d already been lubing him up for twenty minutes, except that it didn’t taste like lube. “Sam, check this out! He tastes like pussy!” Dean said like a twelve year old boy discovering ice cream cake for the first time. 

“I do not taste like- Sam! Where are you going?” Castiel growled as Sam slid out from beneath him, breaking that delicious cock-to-cock contact so that he could also investigate Dean’s discovery. Both Winchesters were leaning over Castiel’s ass, peering at him and investigating him with their fingers, pushing them into Castiel’s loose hole and pulling them out wet. Sam took a cursory taste.

“Mmm, kind of like pussy. Kind of like come,” he said after a few moments, and then he buried his face in Castiel’s ass so he could get a full taste as well. 

“Dude, you angels are kinky sons of bitches,” Dean drawled. He was holding Castiel open so Sam could get deeper. “You all up in Heaven having butt sex orgies all the time?”

“We are not!” Castiel huffed. Just imagining his brethren engaging in this sort of activity almost made him laugh. “I just did this so you two wouldn’t waste time prepping me and get your damn cocks inside!” Castiel kicked out for good measure. Sam surfaced for air for a moment, his face spit and slick shiny.

“Well then you shouldn’t have made yourself so damn tasty. Fuck, I could eat you out all day,” Sam said, licking his lips and looking like he was ready to do just that. Castiel glared at them and took matters into his own hands. Despite Dean and Sam both holding him down, Castiel turned over easily, their hands slipping away from him, unable to hold on. They voiced some argument and protest, but Castiel didn’t listen. He shoved Sam back onto the bed, making him bounce a little, and then straddled him, holding him down easily. Sam grinned up at him, wide-eyed and breathless at Castiel’s show of strength.

“Hey, I wanna get manhandled,” Dean said, incredibly turned on as he saw his much larger brother get thrown around like a rag doll. 

“Later,” Castiel growled just before leaning down to kiss Sam, and getting a taste of himself at the same time. He moaned into Sam’s mouth and dominated the kiss, thrusting his tongue in deep to get through to the taste of Sam and steal his breath away. Sam reached up to wrap his hands around Castiel’s shoulders, but Castiel grabbed his wrists and pinned them down over Sam’s head, shaking his head disapprovingly. Sam strained against Castiel’s hold, but his muscles bunched and tightened in vain. It just made his cock swell up all the more. 

“Dean, would you line up your brother’s cock for me?” Castiel asked politely as he looked over his shoulder. Dean was kneeling on the bed behind them, watching Castiel overpower Sam, and stroking his cock hurriedly. He head snapped up at Castiel’s request, and with a grin, he did as asked, holding Sam’s cock steady while Castiel leaned back against it. He rubbed back and forth against the head of Sam’s cock, getting him wet and teasing him. Sam struggled a little more against Castiel’s firm grip, growling a little bit with frustration, but Castiel just smiled down at him, taking his time. 

“Cas, c’mon!” Sam growled, pushing his hips up, but meeting only air as Castiel rose up, away from him. Dean laughed at the show, but didn’t say anything to help Sam out. He didn’t want Castiel’s wicked streak making him wait either.

“I haven’t had sex in over a year,” Castiel said, rubbing his hole against Sam’s cock again, pushing back just a little, so he could feel the pressure of the impending penetration, but he held it there. “I want to savor it.”

Sam whined in protest as Castiel lowered himself with aching slowness. Inch by inch, Castiel took Sam in, moaning as he was slowly filled up, and loving the look of frustration on Sam’s face. He knew how badly Sam wanted to thrust up into him, balls deep in a matter of seconds, and he kind of wanted it, too, but resisted. 

When Castiel rested his full weight against Sam’s hips, he let out a soft, breathy moan, tilting his head back in appreciation of the full, pulsing feeling of Sam inside him. Sam wiggled his hips just a little, jiggling Castiel in his eagerness to get started.

“Patience, Sam,” Castiel said with an inhumanely level voice. “Now it’s Dean’s turn.”

Castiel turned his head back to look at Dean who had been watching with rapt attention as he speared himself on Sam’s prick. He was spread wide open around Sam’s girth, and Dean was eager to spread him even wider. He palmed Castiel’s ass, spreading his cheeks further apart, and rubbed his cock along the length of Sam’s, nudging the head against Castiel’s hole.

“You sure you can handle this, babe?” Dean asked. 

“Even when I was just human, I could take you both,” Castiel said reassuringly. It had been incredibly more difficult back then, his body resistant to the stretch, and many times, he’d had to give up, unable to relax enough to take them both. But as an angel, it was easy. He relaxed his muscles, made himself wetter. He released Sam’s hands and reached back to stroke Dean’s cock. “I need both of you,” Castiel said, pressing Dean’s cock more firmly, almost enough to nudge inside, but not quite.

Dean took it the rest of the way and pushed forward, faster than Castiel had taken in Sam, but still carefully, despite Castiel’s reassurance. His cock slipped past Castiel’s rim easily, like they’d been stretching him for hours with fingers and toys. Dean moaned at the tight heat. The clench of Castiel’s body, the pulse of Sam’s cock against his own. He had missed being with the two men he loved, feeling them both so intimately. 

“Perfect,” Castiel whispered once Dean was all the way inside him. Sam and Dean, crowded up inside him once again, so full and hot, it made him dizzy with pleasure. He moved his hips, just a little, a gentle rocking motion, but that’s all he needed to dredge up grunts and groans from Sam and Dean. That little movement caused so much friction between them. Once Castiel started moving, so did Dean, with short, shallow thrusts, again, just grinding a little to cause so much feeling between them. Sam had hardly any room for movement, bearing most of Castiel and Dean’s weight, his hips just rolled up, a little buck underneath Castiel’s hips. 

It was tough to find a rhythm between three people, but with practice, Castiel, Sam, and Dean always had. Their time apart left them more out of sync than usual though. Castiel would grind back while Dean was withdrawing. Sam would jerk up too hard when Castiel pushed down. But it brought up soft, huffed out laughs, gentle reprimands, and a few, harmless curse words. Eventually though, their bodies found it, rolling together one by one in a smooth flow of skin against skin. There was no knowing which one was steering, or who was leading the motion; it worked out too easily to be certain. 

But their hunger for each other could not be abated even with this instinctual and primal connection. They touched and groped each other in any way they could, seeking out more skin. Castiel tilted his head back to kiss Dean, swallowing up eager kisses and leaving his lips bruised red. Sam ran his hands, large and callused, over Castiel’s thighs, up over his stomach, smoothing over the toned, smooth planes. They crashed and heaved together, with Castiel pinned tightly between them, chest to chest to back to chest. Not an inch untouched and unloved.

When Sam and Dean each wrapped a hand around Castiel’s cock, he jerked them out of their rhythm, seeking out that touch counterpoint to their two cocks. Husky, panted breaths puffed past his lips, and low moans as Sam and Dean stroked him, squeezing him around the base, thumbing the leaking slit. Their fingers were so nimble on him, it felt like four hands instead of two, trying to pull the orgasm out of him. But Castiel wouldn’t give in. Not quite yet.

“Wanna feel you,” Castiel pleaded breathlessly. “Fill me up. Make me yours again.”

Sam and Dean both jerked at that plea, one they’d heard a hundred times before, but never grew tired of. A plea that never failed to send them tumbling over the edge, because how could they resist when Castiel asked so sinfully to get pumped full? And Castiel knew this very well. He moaned wantonly when Sam went off first, a hot wet pulse inside him. And then Dean went next, mixing their come together deep inside Castiel while they still pumped and jerked through their orgasm. The come seeped out around their cocks, making a mess that they’d be happy to clean up later in a hot lazy shower. 

As Dean and Sam kept rolling their hips, their cocks not quite soft yet, Castiel gave into his version of angel sex – not the super strength, or lubrication, or any telekinesis, but using his grace to feel everything, including Sam and Dean. So while he felt the physical evidence of their orgasm, he also felt the energy of it washing over him and through him. He could feel Sam and Dean’s pleasure as tangible as his own, but blinding with its intensity. Castiel cried out, overwhelmed, and pushed himself over the edge, coming harder than he ever had before, feeling three orgasms crash through him all at once. Sloppy with it, be slumped down over Sam’s chest, panting harshly and shutting his eyes tight as the waves ebbed and flowed through him, slowing down and easing off, just as the aftershocks of orgasm would.

Castiel only stirred when Dean pulled out and rolled off to the side, tugging Castiel off of Sam to lie between them. He wouldn’t have minded the post-coital snuggle with both of them inside him, but habits die hard, and usually maintaining a position like that any longer than necessary led to aching muscles and strained backs. 

“Mmmf, feel like I could go again any minute,” Dean murmured, sex sleepy, but not exhausted like he usually was. He was still running hot on Castiel’s boost, and as a result, still half hard, a phenomenon he hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

“That was my intent,” Castiel said, contentedly, reaching back to stroke Dean softly, getting his fingers sticky with their mess. 

“Sounds like our retirement is going to get a lot more interesting,” Sam said, his lips so close to Castiel’s cheek, it was like a soft, breathy kiss. “Are you ever going to let us rest?”

“Eventually,” Castiel said cheekily. “But then I plan on living like a human again. No more angel mojo.”

“I am vetoing this idea,” Dean said. “For one, angel sex. For another, the house needs repainting and you could do that in like three seconds.”

Castiel laughed as Sam nodded in agreement. He could see in their minds an entire list of left off chores and errands that would be made easier and more pleasurable with him as an angel. But he shook his head gently, a smile tugging his lips.

“It will be harder to resist temptation now that you know my secret,” Castiel said. “But, being with you as a human is all I’ve ever wanted. I want to go back to that, as much as we can.”

“You want to wash dishes, and get sick, and spend hours researching books?” Dean asked doubtfully.

“No,” Castiel said slowly, remembering the difficulties of humanity without using his grace, and how much he had hated it sometimes. When he ached, and he was tied, and angry, all he wanted was to burst free and complete everything with a blink. But there were other times when he finished a new book shelf, made a good meal, helped Dean weed the garden, and researched with Sam. It was satisfying to do those things the way his lovers did because they had no choice to do otherwise. “But I will do it anyway because that is what kept us together before, and it will put us back together again.”

“You don’t need to be human for us anymore, Cas,” Sam said reassuringly, and there was understanding in his voice. “But if this is what you want, then we’ll support you.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out,” Dean said. “We always do.”

Castiel smiled, warmth and love bubbling up in his chest as he was surrounded and accepted. He had wanted it for so long, and never realized he didn’t quite have it until now. But it had been worth the wait.

~

Epilogue - Two Months later

Castiel’s return was like a second honeymoon. Dean got all the angel sex he said he’d been missing out on, and the three of them got reacquainted with each other and learning all their new boundaries. It was hard to remember Castiel was an angel again at some times, and at others, hard to remember that they shouldn’t ask him to do just anything. Dean was still insistent that Castiel use his powers to paint the house. Instead, Castiel had used his powers to procure paint and brushes for Dean, smirking as he dropped them off in the blink of an eye. Dean did not find his joke very amusing, but also didn’t ask for another favor. 

Slowly, day by day, Castiel aged himself. He couldn’t just change his shape and make himself old again, but he could speed up his aging process, adding years overnight. His wrinkles started making appearances, and Sam plucked at his first gray hairs. His muscle tone faded, and his joints started to ache. But his proudest and most difficult achievement was forcing scars into his healthy flesh. He wanted his old badges of honor that he had gained earnestly, and when they popped up, shiny and ugly on his skin, Sam and Dean kissed them as lovingly as before.

Finally, after two months of hiding in the house, Castiel was back to his old self again, and there was no need to hide him in the attic when hunters showed up at their door. However, he was started to wish he was hiding up in the attic since he was stuck in the kitchen washing up.

Castiel hated washing dishes. Sure, they had a dish washing machine for the plates and cups, but he still had to scrub out the pots and pans. Leaning over the sink made his back hurt, and the water made his fingers pruny and dried out. No matter how much lotion he used, his hands would still feel tight and over used for hours.

And never mind that Dean and Sam were in the other room with Kayla and Charity Granieri. They were supposed to be researching, but he could hear animated chatter and laughter and felt left out. But, Sam had cooked dinner and Dean had a cut on his hand, so he was left with washing the dishes. 

He could feel the temptation of his grace like a physical itch, bubbling under the surface, promising relief and ease and a return to life in the next room. It was so much harder than it was before. Before it was the fear they might discover his secret and everything would fall apart. Now, there were no repercussions, just teasing looks if he returned too soon with smooth hands and no complaints. And then that would lead to even more shortcuts, and more magic, and everything would be different. So he consoled himself that he had done it before, and could do it again, and that was that.

Thirty minutes later, Castiel joined the others in the library where they were, as he suspected, not poring over books, but lounging casually and talking. As he entered the room, Charity came up and hugged him. Castiel was a little bewildered by the affectionate embrace, but he hugged back, smiling at the young woman.

“I’m sorry about your sister, Mr. Cas,” Charity said, her eyes moist with genuine feeling. “That was so good of you to stay with her for so long.”

“Family is important,” Castiel said, trying on his most somber face for discussing the death of a woman who never really existed. “You and your sister need to take care of each other like that, too.”

Charity nodded her head earnestly, but Castiel caught Kayla rolling her eyes a bit. He recognized it for the sarcasm it was though, much like Dean’s no chick-flick moments. Just a show of independence in the face of such a strong family bond.

“Hey Mr. Dean, what do you do with all those old cars in back?” Kayla asked.

“Look at them lovingly,” Dean said.

“Don’t you ever drive them around?” Kayla went on, a persuasive tone in her voice. “Seems a shame they don’t get out on the open road much. I mean, if there was someone you trusted a lot, they could probably-”

“Yeah, no,” Dean said quickly. “Your mom already warned me you wanted your hands on my cars, and there is just no way in Hell, sweetheart.”

“Fine, but when you get eaten by a rugaru, I’m stealing them and painting them all pink. I can just imagine the Impala in bright, neon pink.”

“Girly,” Dean said, giving Kayla a softened side eye of disapproval. “If you think my spirit isn’t going to be attached to that car, you are sorely mistaken. Good luck burning that down to ash.”

“You’re not coming back as a ghost,” Charity said with a twinkle in her eye. “Mr. Garth said you’ve died before and went to Heaven and that you’re soul mates with Mr. Sam.”

“Charity,” Kayla said with the sort of disdain that is reserved solely for siblings. “Old man Garth just made that up. You will believe any silly love story you hear.”

“First of all,” Sam cut in. “Don’t call him old man Garth. He’s younger than us. Second of all, it’s true. Haven’t you ever heard the saying, don’t kill a Winchester, it just makes them mad?”

Charity looked at Sam and Dean with blossoming hope in her eyes, while Kayla eyed them with open suspicion. “Well, if that’s true,” Kayla said. “Then what’s Heaven supposed to be like?”

“You replay your favorite memories over and over again,” Dean said.

“That sounds lame,” Kayla said.

“Yeah, but it’s pretty good if you’re with the one you love,” Sam said, looking at Dean and smiling. 

“But… what about Mr. Cas?” Charity asked, looking over at Castiel. They hadn’t heard any stories about him dying and sharing a Heaven with Sam and Dean.

“Oh, like Heaven could keep us away from him,” Dean said with a wink.

Castiel smiled back. Home and love with Sam and Dean was all he’d ever wanted, and he finally had it. No lies. No tricks. It was worth every moment of pain and doubt he’d experienced, and he believed Sam and Dean felt the same way. Someday, their time would come, as was natural, but it didn’t matter. Nothing could keep them apart.


End file.
